


It's an odd concept to consider

by narwalish



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Afghanistan war, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depressed Annie, Depression, Epistolary, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narwalish/pseuds/narwalish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He always says 'Just remember, if I ever go away, I'll always come back, because I love you.'</p><p>I've been waiting for him to come back for a while now, though. Mummy says he will one day, but he's busy. He's helping the country, and that makes me happy. Before he left, he gave me a big hug, and a necklace. It's made of glass, and looks like a little block of ice on a chain. He made one for me, and one for him. He said, as long as I wear it, we'll both be safe.</p><p>I asked Mummy why he wouldn't be safe, but she didn't tell me.<br/>-----<br/>Annie writes in her diary and wonders why her big brother hasn't come home yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's an odd concept to consider

My big brother likes to hug me. He says that I make him very happy and that I'm his favourite. He always helps me get ready for bed and school. He makes my lunches and walks me to the playground, and kisses me on the head and says that he loves me.

Mummy and Daddy are very nice too, and they always say they love me, but I like Bertholdt most.

When I'm sad, he always makes sure I end up happy. He buys me ice cream and lets me watch my favourite films. The one I like the most has a beautiful queen and a beautiful princess who are sisters, and they love each other no matter what. I always cry near the end, but my big brother always helps me stop.

He always says 'Just remember, if I ever go away, I'll always come back, because I love you.'

I've been waiting for him to come back for a while now, though. Mummy says he will one day, but he's busy. He's helping the country, and that makes me happy. Before he left, he gave me a big hug, and a necklace. It's made of glass, and looks like a little block of ice on a chain. He made one for me, and one for him. He said, as long as I wear it, we'll both be safe.

I asked Mummy why he wouldn't be safe, but she didn't tell me.

* * *

 Mummy and Daddy cried a lot this week. They said that Bertholdt wasn't coming back, and I don't understand.

I wore the necklace to keep him safe, so why isn't he?

They took me to see a nice lady who said she's a doctor, and she said to write things down that I remember about Bertholdt to help me 'cope with the loss'.

I don't know what she means by that, but I still did what she said, and here's what I wrote:

_Whenever Bertholdt gets me ready for bed, I always stand on the bed and reach up high. I really want to be tall like him, and he says that when I am older I will be. I don't think I will be as tall as him. When I ask if I will be pretty when I'm older, he always laughs and says I will be the prettiest girl in school. Then I ask if I'll get married, and he says yes, and that he will walk me down the aisle. I don't know what that means, but I hope he keeps his promise._

The nice doctor lady then said to write about when I last saw Bertholdt, so I did:

The night before Bertholdt went away, he hugged me extra tight and kissed my forehead extra hard. He told me that he wouldn't be able to help me get ready for bed tomorrow, so I'd have to be a big girl for him and try on my own.  
Bertholdt is a lot older than me. He is 18, and I am 6. I can't wait until I'm all grown up like him.

The morning he left, mummy and daddy and I went to the airport. Bertholdt was dressed up like the toy soldiers all the boys at my school have. I asked him if he was a soldier, and he said yes. Mummy and Daddy hugged him, which they never do, and I hugged him too. He said he'd only be gone for a year. I don't know how long that is, but I hope he'll be back soon, because mummy keeps crying.

* * *

 I'm 16, and my parents are still making me write in this fucking journal. The bitch that calls herself my therapist says it's _good_ for me to _deal with my problems_ this way. She hasn't got a clue.

I was told a _year_ ago what happened to my brother. They thought I wasn't _mature_ or _brave_ enough to know that my big brother was taken prisoner and shot dead in Afghanistan when I was 6. They didn't think I could _handle the truth_.

The worst part is, I can't.  
I miss him, so much.  
And it took me this long to come to terms with the fact that he's dead. That he's not coming back.

I sometimes remember the stupid things he'd do, like knocking his head on the top of the doorway into my room. Or that he'd sometimes pick me up from school late because he took the wrong turnoff.

When the school found out what happened, I noticed the teachers change. They were suddenly a lot _nicer_ to me, and I barely got what was going on.  
It still happens. I make friends, and they ask if I have any siblings. Then I have to tell them I had a brother, but he's dead. Then they go all solemn and act _extra_ nice to me, like I deserve their fucking sympathies. So I get angry, and I lose my friends.

I've got one friend. That's all. And he cares.  
His first words to me weren't "Oh my god you're so short! I heard your brother was like _6 foot tall_??". He was 6 foot 4, actually. Do your fucking research.  
He doesn't greet me with "Hey, blondie~". My hair colour is not a name. It's a hair colour.  
He doesn't think I'm a freak when I call him in the middle of the night, screaming and crying over the brother that died 10 years ago.  
He thinks I'm beautiful, and that I'm normal.

It's strange that he's only the second to tell me that.  

* * *

 I smiled for the first time since _it_ happened yesterday. Armin was round my house, and he told me he loved me. He blushed a lot, and I chuckled.

I think I love him too.

It's a funny concept, to love someone after my brother.  

* * *

 I haven't spoken to my therapist in 6 years.

I'm glad she didn't contact me after I wrote to her, when I was 17, saying that I had a boyfriend now and that I didn't need her.

I do need her though, if I'm honest. I need her to look me in the eyes and tell me the truth, but I've got a fiancée for that now. He's in university, studying psychiatry. It makes me happy that he cared enough to get a job that could help me, despite the fact it probably won't.

I'm a time bomb, we both know that, but I feel like my timer is slowing down.

* * *

 I got married yesterday.

I didn't have have my father walk me down the aisle. I felt like it would be an insult to _his_ memory if I had someone else do it.

I smiled more than I thought I would, I felt more comfortable.

It's been 18 years since I lost Bertholdt. I sometimes wonder if he'd be married now, to a nice girl or guy. He'd be in his 30s now, maybe with some kids and a pretty house in the country.

It's been so long since I was a child, so long since he left.  
It's been this long, but I still miss him.  
Funny that, after all this time, I do miss the 6'4" lanky teenager that used to watch _Frozen_ with me, and tell me that he'd always be there. Funny that I can still remember the exact colour of his eyes, the feel of his hugs.

I'm clutching the same necklace he gave me when he left, hanging around my neck alongside his silver dog tags.

It's odd that I've changed, I'll admit. But I'm finally starting to feel better.


End file.
